


The Story of Angle

by thenewbuzwuzz



Series: Buffyverse-Flatland fusions [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Flatland - Edwin A. Abbott
Genre: Character Study, Drabble Sequence, Gen, Geometry, Puns & Word Play, it's not as mathematical as the cone!Buffy thing was, sort of, though it's really an excuse for puns more than anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:59:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9517877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewbuzwuzz/pseuds/thenewbuzwuzz
Summary: 5 times Angel was a geometrical figure and 1 time he didn't care what he was.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't feel close to Angel, so I mostly tried to avoid outright bashing. Looks like it worked.
> 
> There are two versions: the one where text folds into the shape of Angel, i.e. some of the text is in images (Chapter 1) and a plain text one (Chapter 2).
> 
> Apologies to people who like pentacles.

**1\. Liam — pentagon**

It started with a line, as it often does. She called out to him behind a pub one night. He could see there was something otherworldly about her, but to be sure, he needed to go up and feel.  
She felt nice.  
He’d felt better.  
Hurriedly, she spoke to him. Did he know the other nobles laughed about his getting hammered and hanging off reality like a hinge?

 

**2\. Angelus — twisted, deadly ex-pentagon**

So he let her keep talking (while he kept feeling her up, because something was definitely suspicious here), and then she showed him

He certainly had the vision — right? —, and now he had the power.  
As he amused himself by poking holes into his former neighbors with the sharp peaks he could make now, they called him Angle.

 

**3\. Angel — broken line**

One day, hunting dots in the gutter, he heard a buzzing. A being from outside this plane came to him. It sat down, rubbed its front legs together, and offered him hope of filling the emptiness between his loose ends.  
He could be someone who helps.

 

**4\. Angelus — pentagram**

He only met B in shadows and turned his undamaged sides towards her. She didn’t deserve to contemplate wrong, misshapen things any more than she already had to.  
So when she did share her warmth with him, it was a miracle. He folded himself gently around her, feeling… complete? He kept stretching in contentment even in sleep.  
When he woke up, his limbs had rearranged.

**5\. Angel — broken line with cobwebs on**

He awoke in the dark, on the Other Side. In the dust, things crawled, skittered, sometimes fed on one another.  
Angle felt no better than those things. Actually, he bet the woodlice and earwigs hadn’t ever terrorized and killed anyone they had promised to support and protect.  
He crawled out, covered in cobwebs. B tried to prop him up, but he knew he was a burden and a threat. As soon as he could walk, he travelled over the desert to the City of Angles. It was rumored all sorts of Irregular miscreants dwelled there. He would fit right in.  
  
**6\. Angel**

In the city, he did fit among other shapes, some of them covered in vertices, some even colorful. His sharp ends and unusual angles were useful against the creatures that stalked the regular citizens. Sometimes, he hardly remembered he’d thought of himself as a deformed pentagon. Now, he was just… what he was. The question was what he could do.  
Even after he discovered the city itself was crooked, he kept dreaming of clean, sharp outlines. Maybe, as he battled his final mass of squiggles and smudges, he would leave a blazing afterimage against the black expanse of the world.


	2. The plain text version

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE SAME THING as text without images

  **1\. Liam — pentagon**

 It started with a line, as it often does. She called out to him behind a pub one night. He could see there was something otherworldly about her, but to be sure, he needed to go up and feel.  
She felt nice.  
He’d felt better.  
Hurriedly, she spoke to him. Did he know the other nobles laughed about his getting hammered and hanging off reality like a hinge? They called him Line, she said. It was an insult to his lineage.  
She was right! He HAD been born a Pentagon. There should be respect.  
Besides, Line was a girl’s name.

 

**2\. Angelus — twisted, deadly ex-pentagon**

So he let her keep talking (while he kept feeling her up, because something was definitely suspicious here), and then she showed him how to twist around through nothingness and make himself sharp. And if she took something of his while she was showing him, he didn’t notice. She would show him the world! And he would show the world what he could make of it. He certainly had the vision — right? —, and now he had the power.  
As he amused himself by poking holes into his former neighbors with the sharp peaks he could make now, they called him Angle.

 

**3\. Angel — broken line**

Something tore him open, and the pain of others washed through, leaving him in an untidy heap. Everything was suddenly personal and painful. Even the family of Isosceles mattered (a herd, he’d thought). He couldn’t feel where he ended and the world began.  
For a long time, he couldn’t tell if he began anywhere.  
One day, hunting dots in the gutter, he heard a buzzing. A being from outside this plane came to him. It sat down, rubbed its front legs together, and offered him hope of filling the emptiness between his loose ends.  
He could be someone who helps.

 

**4\. Angelus — pentagram**

He only met B in shadows and turned his undamaged sides towards her. She didn’t deserve to contemplate wrong, misshapen things any more than she already had to.  
So when she did share her warmth with him, it was a miracle. He folded himself gently around her, feeling… complete? He kept stretching in contentment even in sleep.  
When he woke up, his limbs had rearranged. He was whole, not confused anymore. This was what he was meant to become! The world was nothing but his canvas. Chalk outlines were his medium of choice; the screams of victims, his atonal music.

 

**5\. Angel — broken line with cobwebs on**

He awoke in the dark, on the Other Side. In the dust, things crawled, skittered, sometimes fed on one another.  
Angle felt no better than those things. Actually, he bet the woodlice and earwigs hadn’t ever terrorized and killed anyone they had promised to support and protect.  
He crawled out, covered in cobwebs. B tried to prop him up, but he knew he was a burden and a threat. As soon as he could walk, he travelled over the desert to the City of Angles. It was rumored all sorts of Irregular miscreants dwelled there. He would fit right in.

   
**6\. Angel**

In the city, he did fit among other shapes, some of them covered in vertices, some even colorful. His sharp ends and unusual angles were useful against the creatures that stalk the regular citizens. Sometimes, he hardly remembered he’d thought of himself as a deformed pentagon. Now, he was just… what he was. The question was what he could do.  
Even after he discovered the city itself was crooked, he kept dreaming of clean, sharp outlines. Maybe, as he battled his final mass of squiggles and smudges, he would leave a blazing afterimage against the black expanse of the world.

 


End file.
